


Fighting Her Battles

by Julieoftarth (Wherethereissmoak)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14346822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wherethereissmoak/pseuds/Julieoftarth
Summary: Jaime has a new bruise on his face, which he's trying to hide from Brienne.





	Fighting Her Battles

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my first entry for the JBO 100,000 Posts Celebration. My prompt was "“I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah.” Wanted to do a little piece about Jaime's reaction to Tormund's attitude toward Brienne. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Do you think it’s noticeable?” Jaime asked, touching his face just below his eye gingerly.

Tyrion looked at his brother’s face and laughed. “Well I wasn’t going to say anything…but yeah. You have a bruise that is turning a lovely shade of purple right now.”

“Damn, she’s going to notice.” Jaime cursed under his breath. He was hoping to keep this…incident from Brienne.

“She?”

Jaime scowled at his brother. He knew very well who he was talking about. Tyrion, his only friend in the North besides Podrick and Brienne, had taken every opportunity to jape him about how he apparently gazed longingly at the Maid of Tarth.

“Brienne, I don’t want Brienne to notice this bruise.”

“Well, if she didn’t see the injury to your face, this is not a large community and news travels fast. She’s bound to hear about it soon. You should probably get in front of it so you can explain it to her yourself.”

Jaime looked across the yard and saw the woman in question heading in for dinner, he cursed again.

“She’s going to be angry,” Jaime said.

“Oh yes, the Maid of Tarth probably wouldn’t take too kindly to you fighting her battles,” Tyrion laughed. “I wish you luck, brother.”

Jaime stopped before entering the hall, bent down and scooped some mud off the ground. He smeared a bit over his face, hoping it would cover his injury. Now he stunk to high hells, but at least it could buy him some time.

He entered the hall, grabbed his food and plopped down at a table, close enough to where he could overhear if someone was trying to tell the tale to Brienne, but far enough away that she couldn’t see his face well.

She gave him a confused look from her table, but continued eating, eyeing him warily.

“Yeah, I heard that he can’t even get out of bed. Who knew a one-handed man could do so much damage if he really wants to?”

Jaime groaned as some of the talk around him turned to the incident. He prayed that Brienne wasn’t paying attention to their words.

“I had doubts about the Kingslayer arriving, I mean, what good’s a one-handed man in battle, but now I changed my mind. I will gladly fight next to a man who can do that kind of damage without even a sword in his hand.”

Jaime grinned at that. If anything good could come of the incident, at lease some of the men at Winterfell would start treating him with respect.

“Jaime…are you all right?”

He looked up to see Brienne standing over his table. Jaime kept his eyes down as much as possible.

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“It’s just…you always eat with Podrick and I and you are all the way over here. Have we done something to offend you?”

Jaime looked up at that. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Brienne. “Gods, no, Brienne. I’m just filthy from sparring out in the mud today. I thought I would spare you the smell.”

He gave her his best grin and hoped it did the trick.

It did not. If anyone was immune to his charming attempts at deception, it was Brienne of Tarth.

“You know I don’t care about a little mud,” Brienne said as she sat down next to him. The tight space between the bench and the table made her stretch her long legs awkwardly to get into the seat. Jaime nearly groaned at the sight. He loved every part of Brienne, but her legs did something to him. How was he supposed to pretend that he was just her friend when she was flaunting them in front of his face?

“Here, let me help you with that,” Brienne said, and before he could register what was happening, she dipped a piece of table linen in his water cup and started washing his face.

He was so distracted by the feeling of her touching him that he forgot he was supposed to be hiding with the mud.

“Jaime Lannister! What happened to your eye?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You look like you’ve been punched,” Brienne was prodding at the injury, her sapphire eyes shone with concern.

“Well then, that’s probably what happened,” Jaime said. “I told you I’ve been sparring all day.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes. “Jaime, please. Who punched you? Was it one of the Northmen who don’t accept your presence here? I can speak again to the Starks…”

Jaime reached up and grabbed her hand with his. “Wench, please, can you stop poking at it and making it worse?”

Brienne backed away immediately, but she didn’t pull away her hand because she had noticed his bloody knuckles.

“Ser Jaime!”

“Lady Brienne!” He teased her back, wondering if she would ever drop the “Ser” when addressing him.

“You’ve punched someone as well!”

Jaime grinned. “Indeed, and I’m proud to say the other fighter crawled away with many more injuries than just a black eye.”

Brienne scowled at him. “Ser Jaime, you have to be careful about who you offend here. Please tell me who you fought, so I can determine how much damage has been done.”

“I don’t need you to defend me, Wench,” Jaime ground out.

A chuckle sounded as The Hound sat down across from them. Jaime tried to warn the man off with a look, but he did not get the message. “Funny you should say that, Lannister, since you spent the entire afternoon defending her.”

Silence fell over the table. Brienne’s fingers tightened on Jaime’s, but he didn’t dare complain about the pain she was now causing his injuries.

“Defending me?” She asked incredulously. “And exactly what battle were you fighting that you did not think I could fight myself?”

Jaime sighed. He knew she was going to say something like that.

“It’s not like that, Brienne. I know you could take down anyone who stood in your way. I just couldn’t sit there and listen to him say those things about you.”

Brienne closed her eyes, as if bracing herself. It broke Jaime’s heart that she had experienced such things before.

“Who?”

“Tormund. We were sparring, and he was saying all these things about how he had fucked a bear and he would fuck you and raise giant babies with you,” Jaime said. “I know I will never be worthy of you Brienne, but I couldn’t let that man pretend that he would ever be either.”

Brienne just stared at him with wide eyes.

“He was good and pissed all right. Never seen a man fight so angry and possessed,” the Hound chimed in. “Earned a lot of respect with the Wildlings and the Northmen. Tormund will be all right. He’s just licking his wounds. I suppose he’ll leave you alone from now on, though.”

Jaime looked at Brienne sheepishly, but she still didn’t say anything. She stood and walked across the room to the almost-maester, Sam Tarly and spoke to him for a moment. He nodded and pulled something to hand to Brienne.

She crossed back to them and resumed her seat next to Jaime. Brienne gave the hound a look, and he put his hands up in surrender and took his dinner to another table, leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m sorry Brienne. I knew you would be angry with me the moment the fight was over,” Jaime started.

Brienne took the lid off the jar Sam had handed her, dipped her finger in the ingredients and started rubbing them over Jaime’s injured knuckles.

“Promise me,” she said quietly.

“Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t fight my battles again,” Brienne said.

When he didn’t reply, she rubbed the ointment in harder and he hissed in pain. “Fine, wench, I will promise to try. Will that do?”

Brienne nodded. “I suppose, for now.”

They sat in silence for a few moments while Brienne finished her work on his hand, and wrapped it in linens.

“Jaime?” She asked hesitantly. It did not go unnoticed by him that she had addressed him informally for the first time.

“Yes, Brienne?”

“You said you could never be worthy of me, but you are. Worthy that is,” Brienne said, a deep blush covering her face.

Before he could respond, the Maid of Tarth got up and hurried from the room. Jaime couldn’t help the grin formed as he watched her go. Today had started out so badly, but it had ended so well. Not only had he risen in the esteem of those who would fighting beside him, but he learned he had a chance to win the heart of Brienne.

He downed the last of his drink and stood up to follow in the direction she had fled. He might as well start his wooing now, before they got too distracted by war.

The next morning, Tormund limped out of his room, looking for breakfast. He would recover from his injuries, but he was in a lot of pain this morning. As he turned the corner to enter the main hall, he spotted the giant warrior woman kissing the Lannister knight fiercely.

Tormund’s eyes widened, but then he winced at the pain that action caused. He sighed and finally gave up on his quest for Brienne of Tarth. He could not handle any more defeats at the hands of Jaime Lannister, both when it came to the battlefield and the heart.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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